Seven Deadly Sins
by kyleisgod
Summary: Damien is back, and he's back to cause trouble.
1. lust

No one believed the so-called "crackpots" anymore. Nobody listened these days when a farmer claimed to see a UFO, or a woman swore she spotted Elvis at the mall eating a corndog. The world was far more skeptical than ever before. Realistically, why shouldn't it have been? This was the age of Photoshop, forged documents, and forged documents about forged documents. Too many things could be easily faked today.

Of course just because things could be faked didn't mean they necessarily were. Some paranormal events really did happen from time to time. Tonight for example, out on a field in South Park, Colorado, the ground inexplicably opened up. Smoke and fire shot out into the night sky. Soon after, a young figure dressed in an all-black robe emerged from the gaping hole. It was Damien.

Now a teenager, Damien needed to do what most teens did: Get a job. Luckily, he had a powerful father. Satan pulled some strings and got his boy a temporary job as Death. The current Grim Reaper was getting on in years, and it was well-known throughout Hell that he was searching for a replacement. During the trial period, Damien was allowed to pick a location on earth and kill those he deemed worthy. If he did well, there was a good chance he would permanently land the job. Unfortunately, there were still rules associated with life and death. Damien couldn't simply kill people at random. There was no challenge in that. He first needed a good reason to send his victims to Hell. Otherwise the deaths wouldn't stick. God had spared a lot of condemned souls because of deaths occurring before nature had properly taken its course.

Although he hadn't been to South Park in years, Damien remembered the place well. What made the town stick out most in his mind were the townspeople. They were, for the most part, horrible sinners the last time he visited. Their intolerance was once so strong it allowed Satan to come to earth. A few years before that, the fools greedily bet money on Satan in a fight he had against Jesus Christ, the alleged Lord and Savior of the small town. Truly these people were the most deserving of Damien's visit.

As he left the field and walked through town, Damien pondered why he would kill people. He still hadn't figured out a good reason, but he knew if he got the job that he'd make a great Death. As Damien walked the streets, he stared into the windows of the houses he passed. In one home, a man was taking money out of a woman's purse. In the next, a woman was spanking her son. Finally, through the bedroom window of the last house on the block, Damien spotted a very attractive woman removing her clothes. Being a teenager, he had to stop and check this out. A black man stepped into the window frame, and the couple made their way to the bed. As the man began singing what sounded like a Barry White tune to his lover, the light bulb went off in Damien's head.

Everything he had just seen in those houses was a sin. Greed, anger, lust; all were considered unforgivably sinful in the eyes of God, along with a few other things. That's when Damien knew what he would do. He would kill his victims in the name of the seven deadly sins.

The man in the house would be his first victim. 


	2. the funeral

Damien might have killed his first victim over the sin of lust, but he had no idea just how big of a player the deceased truly was.

Chef, AKA Jerome McElroy, was known throughout South Park as two things: A ladies man, and a cook. His funeral was packed with many beautiful women and grieving family members, but there were also five young boys present at the service. They were Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski, Kenny McCormick, Eric Cartman, and Butters Stotch. Butters was mostly there to provide comfort, but his presence was a nice gesture all the same. The boys hadn't seen Chef much since leaving elementary school a few years back, but they did stay in touch with him. His death hurt them, especially since all the young men in question were now struggling through the awkward teenage years of life. Unfortunately, Chef died during a time when the boys needed him most. He was more than just a cook to them. He was a friend.

"I can't believe he's gone." said a frowning Stan.

Butters nervously spoke up. "Fellas? I know I wasn't as close to Chef as you guys were. Uh, b-but I just want you to know that I'm here for you. I'm gonna do my best to help you through this."

There was a slight pause.

"Fuck you Butters." said Cartman.

"Oh. Uh, all right then."

"Does anybody know what happened to him?" Kyle asked.

"I…I do…" said a trembling voice.

The boys turned around simultaneously. Standing directly behind them was the woman Chef was in bed with that fateful evening. With tears in her eyes and her body slightly shaking, she told them the story.

"We were at Chef's house…and…And someone came into the bedroom. The police said he got in through the back door and…took one of the knives from the kitchen…He just…just stabbed him for no reason! It was horrible!"

The woman became too upset to continue. The boys saw this, thanked her, and moved on. It was time to view the body and say goodbye anyway.

They went up one by one. Each group member had his own unique way of dealing with the situation, though inside they were all feeling about the same. Butters went first, since he was the least connected of the five to the dead.

"Gee whiz, Chef. I'm awfully sorry you died. From what the fellas told me, you were a really nice person and all…I hope you're happy wherever you are now. Oh, a-and you should know that the fellas miss you a whole lot. A bunch of these ladies do too, b-but I reckon the fellas miss you for more important reasons. Uh, but don't worry. I'm gonna do my best to help them deal with-"

"Hurry up, Butters!" Cartman barked.

"Oh. Sorry Eric, i-it's your turn I guess."

Cartman sighed deeply and approached the casket, his head hanging low.

"Chef, I…I just want you to know that…I'm going to be okay…I got most of your food recipes from your mom. I told her I wanted them for personal reasons, but I actually wanna open up my own chain of restaurants. Don't worry Chef; your legacy will live on through me. I'm gonna name a sandwich after you. I figured it's the least I could do after you make me my first million dollars…Anyway, uh, I-I'm not really good at, like, showing emotions and stuff…That's for fags…So, I'll just say take care of yourself…Bye Chef."

Kyle approached the coffin next. He placed a small flower inside of it.

"I made sure to come up here after Cartman. Look, whatever insensitive things he might have said, you should know that he really is hurting inside. We all are. We just have trouble showing it since we don't wanna look like pussies. You know how it is…I don't actually know if you can hear me right now…If you can though, just know that we love you, and that we miss you a lot…Even though we didn't have the same religion, I'll pray to my God tonight that you're happy wherever you are. Maybe someday we can meet up again and talk about stuff…The other guys still need to come up here, so I'll just say goodbye now…Bye…"

Now it was Kenny's turn. Despite the setting, Kenny couldn't help but smirk a bit as he began his one-sided conversation.

"So you died fucking that chick, huh? Personally that's how I'd like to go too…Um, I really don't know what I'm supposed to say here to be honest. I've never had any experience with death before…Well, my own, but that meant I wasn't around to hear what you're supposed to say at the funerals. Heh…In a way, you were kinda like my hero. You got the same amount of ass Ron Jeremy did, but your girls weren't paid to fuck you…I'll try to remember everything you taught me…Anyway, rest in peace and all that good stuff…I hope the angels put out in Heaven."

Stan headed up. Unlike the others, he couldn't contain his emotions. Once he actually saw the motionless body of the man he had always considered his one true adult friend, he started to cry. The hell with getting called a pussy, he had a right to be upset.

"It isn't fair. It just…isn't right…You aren't supposed to be here! You aren't supposed to die now! You're supposed to die when you're old and in pain! ...You didn't hurt anybody. You didn't do anything wrong. Some fucking lunatic just stabs you for no reason…"

Stan trailed off, eventually choosing to just cry instead. It was all he could seem to do. Through tears, Stan attempted to say a few other things to his deceased friend. His sobbing message was incoherent to those around him, but perfectly understandable to himself and probably also to the Heavens above. A goodbye message must have been somewhere in those sad ramblings, because Stan reluctantly walked away from the casket and back over to his friends.

"I'm gonna find out who did this." Stan said to no one in particular.

Cartman scoffed. "Yeah, okay Dick Tracy. I don't think-Ow!"

Kyle had nudged Cartman's large side. "Not now Cartman."

"I'm serious." Stan said. "I'm going to find out who did this. I'm not letting Chef die in vain." 


	3. envy

Author's Note: I really wanted to include the Goth Kids in this story. I feel having them interact with Damien will make for some funny moments. Hopefully you'll agree with me after reading this chapter. Unfortunately, none of the Goths have names on the show (except for the girl, who's named Henrietta). Since I'm not good at coming up with names (and to avoid any confusion that I might be using lame fan kids) I am simply going to use the Goths unofficial names in this chapter. Oh, and sorry to anyone who feels this story is delayed. Enjoy.

Public high school was the perfect location. Drugs, sex, and many other sins were a huge part of the average high school experience. If that was the case at South Park High, Damien would likely have no trouble finding people to justifiably kill. As Damien walked the hallways with the rest of the students, he impatiently tried to find the next sinner as quickly as possible. The sooner he accomplished his goal, the sooner he could return to Hell and make his case for the Death job.

Blending in wasn't a problem since the school was fairly big. Every time Damien walked into a classroom, the teachers either didn't notice him or assumed he was a new or often absent student. Unfortunately, blending in was more than just sitting at a desk. Damien also needed a group to surround himself with as he searched the building for his next victim. These "friends" would help create the illusion of a long existence at the school to the casual observer.

Because of the way he dressed and acted, Damien's only real option for social interaction was hanging out with the Goth kids. The son of Satan knew within the first day that that group was going to get on his nerves, but things only got worse one evening when he was invited over to watch movies in the basement of the baby Goth's house. Being a "friend" to these people, he naturally had to attend the gathering.

The room was lit up by a single candle and the glow of a television set. The black-clothed kids stared blankly at the TV in front of them from their respective positions on the couch or floor. Damien appeared quite bored as the Goths began conversing about the action on the television screen.

"This movie is funny," said the tall Goth in an emotionless voice.

The red-haired Goth nodded in agreement before flipping his trademark hair back. "Yeah. If my soul wasn't filled with darkness, I'd probably laugh."

Henrietta took a puff of a cigarette before speaking in an equally low, monotonous voice.

"Adam Sandler is a comedy genius. He reminds me of my life. My life is pain, just like his. Only I'm not a conformist water boy."

Damien rolled his eyes. This was getting ridiculous. How dare some people associate Satanism with whiny little pussies like these? He had to say something to these people, or at least suggest they put on Little Nicky.

"Oh bullshit!" he snapped at the group. "Your lives aren't that bad. It's not like you've had to grow up where I have."

The Goths all turned their heads to look at Damien, confused by his very vocal response. The dark prince continued speaking.

"I watch people get tortured on a daily basis. I've witnessed acts of rape, plague, starvation, and my father being made into a little slut by a foreign dictator. The things I've seen in Hell would turn most humans into a traumatized shell in an instant! What makes your lives so terrible!"

The others took a moment to consider his words. Baby Goth replied on behalf of his group.

"…This one time, I asked for a toy truck for Christmas. But I didn't get it. See? Life is pain, dude."

Fire filled Damien's eyes-literally. He stood up from the couch and stormed outside. He couldn't take these kids anymore. As he lit up a cigarette of his own, he wondered to himself how he was going to get out of there. He pondered the idea of just walking away from it all, until he heard a voice behind him.

"That was really cool what you said."

It was the voice of the tall Goth. Damien turned around and responded to the remark.

"Excuse me?"

"Well sometimes I think those guys do whine too much. They can be such conformists. You got a smoke?"

Damien tossed the other boy his near-empty pack, finding a new respect for this particular Goth kid.

"So you don't actually enjoy the lifestyle?" Damien questioned.

Tall Goth lit up. "Well being Goth is cool and everything. But sometimes I wish we could be more like you. I mean, actually being Satanic…Wow…that's hardcore."

Damien smirked. It was all too clear now, at least in his mind. The tall Goth, the leader of the clique, was envious of him. He was envious because Damien was the real deal when it came to darkness. Everyone in the basement probably knew it, but only the tall Goth had the guts to basically admit that he was surrounded by a bunch of little posers when compared to the son of Satan.

"So, you're envious of me?" Damien asked for confirmation.

"Yeah, I guess so…"

The Goth tried in vain to light another cigarette. Seeing the lighter failing, Damien approached the boy. He raised his hand up and forced small flames to shoot out of his fingertips. The Goth held out his cancer stick, assuming Damien was going to use his cool devil powers to light the object for him.

"Envy is a sin you know." Damien grinned.

"So?" the Goth questioned.

With a flick of his wrist, the flames shot out of Damien's fingers and onto the Goth's chest. The fire instantly became hotter and larger as the Goth screamed in true pain for once, the flames of Hell consuming him at a rapid pace. Damien smiled as he finished watching the boy burn to death, and then simply walked away from the scene as he'd originally planned.

"Two down, five to go." 


	4. a black rose

Sorry for the delay of this fic everyone. My motherboard died, causing long periods of time without computer access. I finally bummed enough time online to finish this chapter though. YAY! Unfortunately, this chapter mostly sets up future ones, so anyone hoping for a huge update will be disappointed this time. At least I got something done though, and I will begin the next chapter ASAP. I like this story and I'll finish it come hell or high water. Enjoy and keep reading!

Tall Goth wasn't Stan Marsh's best friend. The kid wasn't even in the top five. Nonetheless, Stan still attended the funeral service.

Despite growing out of a Goth phase in fourth grade, Stan still managed to maintain some level of friendship with the other Goths over the years. Although he felt morally obligated to go to the funeral, he also regretted doing so. It was hard enough having to deal with Chef's death, but now this? No one should have to attend this many sad services in a lifetime, let alone the span of a few weeks.

Upon entering the church Stan noticed a large display of black roses. Clearly he was in the right place. He made his way past the grieving family members he'd never met and located the still-living Goths. Luckily, they were always dressed for a funeral.

"I'm sorry you guys." Stan said with a frown. "You must be really upset."

Red Goth flipped his hair. "Not really"

Stan blinked. "But...But your friend's dead."

Henrietta shrugged. "Whatever. Shit happens."

"Emotions are for conformists." Red Goth explained.

The casket was left open so the deceased could be viewed. One by one everybody got in line to pay their last respects. The parents were at the front of the line, and naturally took the longest time saying goodbye.

"Dude, I wonder where Damien is." Henrietta thought out loud as the line stood still.

"Damien?" Stan questioned. "Why would he be here?"

"He was one of us." Red Goth informed him. "But right when Tall Goth died, he just bailed. Conformist"

"Huh" Stan replied, not too shocked that the son of Satan would associate with these people. "I didn't even know he was back on earth."

"You wouldn't. You only hang out with the conformists."

It was finally their turn in line. The Goths placed a couple of razor blades inside the coffin.

"These were his favorite blades." Red Goth said emotionlessly.

"Later dude," Henrietta said simply. So much for needing comfort at a funeral.

Stan gave up talking to his black-clothed friends at that point. Who could blame him? His goodbye message to Tall Goth was short and sweet as well. Not to be cold, but he had more important friends on his mind. He needed to get back to his investigation of Chef's death. No one took Stan seriously when he said he'd figure out who killed his adult pal, but he was determined to do just that. Today's ceremony only acted as a painful reminder, helping to fuel the young man's motivation. He'd figure out who killed Chef no matter what.

If only he could figure it out before Damien killed again. 


	5. pride

The opinion at the lunch table was unanimous: Stan looked terrible. His friends could tell he was exhausted just from the slow way he walked toward them. Unless Stan had been studying all night, there was no way he was ready for the big test next period.

"Dude, what happened to you?" Kyle asked.

A groggy Stan plopped himself down at the table. "I was investigating." he replied with a slight yawn.

Kyle raised an eyebrow. "All night? Stan, I cared about Chef too, but you need to move on."

Stan shook his head. "I can't. I said I'd figure this out and that's what I'm going to do. Besides,  
what about the Goth kid? Is it really a coincidence that two people from this school died?"

"Yes" Cartman answered on behalf of the group. "Think about it Stan. Goths cut themselves if their friggin' coffee's too cold. Of course they're gonna die."

"He burned to death though." Stan argued. "That's not normal. And he died just a couple weeks after Chef. Something's going on here."

Kenny joined in the conversation next. "Well, now you're gonna blow the history test." He maturely added a quick "Heh-heh, blow." to his statement.

Stan slapped his hand to his forehead. "Oh shit, the test! I forgot about that!"

"It's cool. You can just copy off me." Kyle offered.

"Right, because of course you'll ace it." Cartman teased.

Kyle glared at his fat friend. "It's not my fault I'm good at history! Maybe if you were smarter you wouldn't have to cheat off me all the time too!"

"It's not my fault I have a life, unlike you, and can't find time to study!"

Cartman and Kyle continued the argument. A few feet away in a corner, Damien listened closely to the loudly bickering table. He was always interested in the problems and/or pain of others.

"So what if I'm good at history!" Kyle said. "That's not a bad thing! I can't help it that I'm smart and you're incredibly stupid!"

"Kiss my ass, Jew!"

Damien smiled. He had found his next victim.

A bell rang. The long school day was finally over. Normal students fled home in drones, but Damien wasn't a normal student. Instead, the demon spawn waited at the side of the building for his target to come outside. The victim was easy to spot thanks to the green hat he wore. Within seconds of Kyle's exit, Damien was following him down the street.

After years of walking home, Kyle had learned a shortcut to his house. He walked down the bike path with Damien silently following behind him. Quickly growing tired of the chase, and now away from any witnesses, Damien got Kyle's attention.

"Hey you!"

Kyle jumped in surprise and turned around to see who was addressing him. The kid looked familiar, but Kyle couldn't quite place it.

"Yes?" he replied.

Damien smiled. "I understand you had a history test today."

Kyle blinked, unsure why this guy was even talking to him. "Um, yeah so?"

"How did you do?"

"...Why?" Kyle asked hesitantly. "Look, if you want me to do your homework or something-"

"Do you get good grades?" he interrupted.

"Usually" Kyle admitted honestly.

"Are you proud of this?"

"Dude, I have to get home. What do you want exactly?" Kyle asked, growing tired of the questions.

"Are your proud of your intelligence?" Damien repeated.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm glad I'm not a dumbass if that's what you mean. Yeah, I'm proud I guess. Can I go now?"

"The only place you're going is to hell."

Kyle backed away in growing fear. He could tell Damien was quite serious.

"Wh-what?"

"Pride is a sin."

Kyle had heard enough of this freak. He tried to run away, but it was no use. Damien conjured up a literal firewall to stop the redhead in his tracks. As Damien grabbed the boy from behind, Eric Cartman rode up the path on his bike. Confused and intrigued by the sight in front of him, Cartman quietly rode behind some bushes to watch the events unfold.

Within seconds Damien had used his dark powers to create a wheel out of thin air. He threw a struggling Kyle against it, and held him in place with some just as quickly created rope. A wide-eyed Cartman watched on in shock as Damien poofed up a bat next. The son of Satan began swinging violently, breaking the bones of a now screaming Kyle one by one.

After a few minutes, the violent deed was finally done. Damien brought down his wall of fire and simply continued to wander down the bike path. He left the physical body for some hungry vultures to find.

A shocked Cartman got off his bike. He cautiously approached his fallen friend.

"...K...Kahl?"

Eric poked a still-bound Kyle in his chest, thinking this might revive him. There was no movement.

"Kyle!" Cartman called louder, practically yelling in the boy's ear. "Get up you son of a bitch!"

This time, Cartman punched the motionless boy in the face. There was still no reaction. It was official. Kyle was dead.

"...Oh my god..." 


	6. gluttony

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I tried to really beef up this chapter. If you guys have to wait for updates,  
they should certainly be worth waiting for, right? In addition to the usual plot of this story, Satan makes an appearance in this chapter. A lot of potentially important stuff goes on here, so I hope you all will keep reading as this story goes along.

Also, I explained in here the purpose of the wheel death from the last chapter. Some of you were confused about that. Well it's explained here. I would've done those types of deaths from the start of this story, but I only found out about them in the middle of writing this. :)

Finally, I'd like to say that no real animals were harmed in the making of this story. Enjoy and review!

"Hey!" Cartman called out as he chased a still-walking Damien down the bike path. "Hey!" he repeated. Receiving no response, Cartman began pedaling his bicycle faster in order to catch up.  
The son of Satan finally turned around and acknowledged the other boy's presence.

"What?"

Cartman stopped his bike and pointed an accusing finger Damien's way.

"I saw everything. I saw what you did back there to Kyle!"

Small sparks of fire shot out the tips of Damien's fingers. He was fully prepared to destroy another human today if he had to. His deadly hands resting at his sides, Damien grinned and responded to Cartman by posing a simple question to him.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Cartman blinked. "What am I going to do about it? What am I going to -do- about it! I'll show you what I'm gonna do about it!"

The fat boy immediately hopped off his bike...and dropped to his knees, bowing. Damien raised a curious eyebrow and let the fire in his hands disappear.

"You are so cool!" Cartman exclaimed. "I noticed you went with the 'punishment in Hell' wheel death. That was a great call man. Oh, and you might wanna let them know in Hell that Kyle was a dirty Jew."

Damien blinked. "I see."

"Dude, the way you broke him was awesome. I'm seriously. In fact, I think we could make a good team."

"Team?" Damien echoed. "How so?"

"Follow me."

Once at the house, Cartman forced his mother to go into the kitchen and prepare a non-kosher banquet in honor of Kyle's death. Of course Cartman ended up eating most of the food himself,  
leaving very little for Damien to enjoy.

"Could we hurry this up?" Damien asked.

Cartman nodded and swallowed his mouthful of food. He got right to the point of his proposition.

"So we all know you have super awesome powers," Cartman began, "but you're limited. As a human, I can do things you can't. Together, I think we could kill a lot of lame people."

"What are you talking about? I have powers beyond your imagination. You're the one who's limited here."

"Well yeah but your powers aren't perfect. You have to have a weakness. Everyone has a weakness."

"Not me" Damien replied matter-of-factly.

"Nothing?" Cartman said, a bit surprised. "Oh come on. You mean you aren't afraid of like,  
crosses or holy water or kryptonite?"

"You're eating a lot of food." Damien observed, not really answering the question.

"It's a special occasion." Cartman replied. "Look, you can't just go around killing people. This is a small town. They're gonna find out it's you unless you have someone helping you throw them off the trail. My one friend Stan's already trying to figure out who's killing everybody, and when he finds out you just smoked his best friend he's gonna be pissed."

"I don't fear mortals." Damien explained. "At worst they can only send me back to Hell where I came from, and once I'm the new Death, I'll be doing all the killing in the world."

"The new Death?" Cartman inquired before stuffing a piece of unkosher eel into his mouth.

"That's why I'm here. Death is retiring, and I've been given a tryout as his replacement. Every meaningful death I cause in the name of the seven deadly sins gets me one step closer to a full-  
time job. My victims' removal from this earth serves an important purpose and..."

Damien trailed off. He noticed that Cartman seemed to be eating more and more food with every passing second. It was quite possible the house was running out of clean plates.

"Can you stop eating?" Damien asked.

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Of course I can."

"Why don't you?"

"Why should I?" he countered.

Damien smirked. "Because gluttony is a sin."

"So? Look, there are a lot of people I know that deserve to die. Do you wanna be partners or not?"

Damien stood up from the table and made his way behind Cartman.

"I'm afraid not. But it was a pleasure doing business with you."

With a snap of his fingers, Damien turned the banquet on Cartman's plate into a collection of real-life rats, snakes, and toads. Before he knew it the fat boy was having his face shoved into the moving creatures thanks to Damien's hand pushing down on the back of his head. Cartman attempted to fight back, but felt his hands suddenly being bound by a rope Damien had conjured up out of thin air, much like the one he had used to restrain Kyle earlier that day.

The living animals were force-fed into Cartman's mouth one by one. He was made to swallow every last one of the disgusting vermin. It was considered the appropriate punishment in Hell for the sin of gluttony, just as Kyle's wheel death was considered the appropriate punishment for pride. Cartman whimpered in fear, knowing that the punishment he was currently receiving was the same one he would be facing in Hell. That could only mean that Hell was exactly where the dark prince's son was about to send him.

Slowly but surely, the snakes slithered past Cartman's lips. It was too much, even for the fat boy.  
He choked to death with a cobra hanging halfway out of his mouth.

"That's for wasting my time, and for being a sinner." Damien said.

Damien shut his eyes and focused. Slowly the floor of the house began to crack, opening up a hole in the middle of the carpet. Like a hunter with an impressive kill, Damien proudly dragged his latest victim down into the gates of Hell with him. He suspected they had wanted to get their hands on this guy for a long time.

A few minutes later, a tired Damien finally plopped the fat ass corpse down at the feet of his father, Satan himself.

"Behold father, I have brought you another sinner."

Satan sighed from atop his demonic throne. "Damien, we need to talk."

"What do you mean?"

"You're out of control, that's what I mean!" Satan snapped. "Look, I know you want this job as Death, but you're really stretching the rules."

"I'm doing exactly as instructed of me." Damien defended. "I'm killing with a purpose, in the name of the seven deadly sins. I'm ridding the earth of condemned souls. How can you complain? Under my watch, you've already taken in more souls than any who tried out for the job before me could produce."

Satan rolled his eyes. "Now you sound like a politician. Look, son, there's something you're forgetting here. Death doesn't just send people to Hell. He sends them to Heaven too. The fact is all humans do some combination of bad and good in their lives. We can't punish everyone by taking them into Hell and God can't reward everyone by taking them into Heaven. The afterlife is a very complex system."

Damien scoffed. "Why should I help God? He is the enemy. I refuse to supply him with souls when we could easily claim them all for our side."

"Damien, that's not how Death does things. He's supposed to be impartial."

"Death's ways are old and outdated, just like he is. When I take over, things will be done my way."

"If you take over." Satan corrected. "I'm not happy with your performance at all."

Damien glared at his old man as the teen angst rose inside of him.

"Well I don't have to impress you! You may have gotten me the tryout, but it is Death's decision now! He wants results, and I'm giving them to him! I won't stop until all seven sins have been accounted for, and you can't stop me! The fragile system be damned!"

Satan sighed and put his head in his hands. "I so don't need this right now." he complained, his gay side shining through in front of his son. "Dammit now I have a migraine! I'll be taking a hot bath."

Satan walked away from his throne, literally about to wash his hands of the whole thing. Damien left Cartman's body for the demons to place in its proper location, and headed back the way he came. He was already anxious to return to earth and finish what he had started. 


	7. a twist

"All my friends are dead."

It was a sentence that should only come from the mouths of elderly people reading the newspaper obituaries. Instead, the words were spoken by Stan Marsh.

Stan certainly wasn't an old man. He was just a teenager. A young man in the prime of his own life, forced to face his mortality and suffer through the ultimate loss four times in the last few weeks. That was bad enough, but the latest loss was the boy Stan considered his best friend.

One by one his friends were dropping like flies, but there was no question that the untimely death of Kyle Broflovski hurt Stan the most. The only people possibly taking it harder were Kyle's immediate family. As he returned home from Kyle's funeral, Stan realized what everyone around him had already known for days: Stan was at the end of his rope.

With tears slowly running down his face, Stan headed upstairs into the bathroom of his parents' house. He removed his coat and began to frantically search the medicine cabinet.

Through the years Stan had heard many conflicting things about the afterlife, but he believed some kind existed. That's where his friends were now, so that's where he wanted to be. No more pain. No more loss. No more suffering. Most importantly, no more guilt.

Ever since Stanley began his quest to figure out who had killed Chef, his other friends began to die. Kenny and Butters tried to assure him it was just a huge coincidence. They said the killings were probably just the random act of a serial killer. Still, Stan couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible. With his own life gone, Stan wouldn't have to feel guilty anymore, and hopefully no one else would suffer. His remaining friends and family would no doubt be hurt by this decision, but at least Stan wouldn't be around to see it. It was just another thing to feel bad about.

Finally Stan found the object he was searching for. He rolled up his shirt sleeves and ran the blade of a razor across his wrists without hesitation. As he fell to the bathroom floor, blood pouring out of his body, Stan took comfort in the knowledge that his pain would soon be over. He would join his friends very soon.

Or would he? 


	8. the afterlife

Stan slowly opened his eyes. He smiled as he saw the light, but frowned when he realized it was only the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom.

After getting back on his feet, Stan turned his head away from the lights and observed his very own lifeless body still laying on the tiled floor. He was now positive his suicide attempt had worked, but then why was his soul still in the bathroom?

"Maybe I'm in limbo?" the boy thought to himself. Sure, that could be it. Maybe he just needed to float to Heaven? Not knowing what else to do, Stan began flapping his arms. He realized pretty quickly that he couldn't fly.

Now Stan was starting to worry. A few other possible scenarios ran through his mind. Maybe he wasn't even meant to go to Heaven? Maybe some other religion was right, and he'd come back to life as a toad or something? Whatever the case, Stan didn't like just hanging out in a bathroom.  
He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be with his lost friends again.

Stan ultimately decided to leave the bathroom and walk to wherever exactly he was meant to go.  
He couldn't just stand around and wait for something to happen to him first.

As it turned out, he couldn't walk anywhere. That was because the exit was blocked. As soon as Stan turned the knob and opened the door, he found someone else standing on the other side of it.  
Stanley was now face to face with Death. Or rather, the temporary Death. Stan had finally met up with Damien.

"How'd you get in here?" Stan wondered out loud.

"I have my ways. Suicide, huh?" Damien observed as he drew back the hood of his cloak.

"Yeah" Stan said back. "Can I go see my friends now?"

"That depends where they are. I'm sending you to Hell, so you'd better like it there."

"Hell?" Stan frowned. "Great, I'll only have Cartman to hang out with."

"Not my problem." Damien replied without a hint of compassion in his voice. He then waved his hand, causing a small hole to open up in the floor.

"Why do I have to go to Hell?" Stan asked.

"Because I said so."

"You don't understand. I didn't kill myself to be a sinner, or because I don't care about life or anything. It's just that all my friends keep dying, and I wanna be with them again."

Damien rolled his eyes. "I don't care. These last-minute pickups I'm required to do are a pain in the ass. I'm going to be behind schedule all day now because of you."

Stan blinked. "Sorry. I just-"

"Save it and get in the hole. I've got other pickups today, and some of them are going even less willingly than you."

Stan looked over the face of the impatient boy, noticing that he appeared very young for being the Grim Reaper.

"So you're Death?"

"I will be. I'm trying out for the job as we speak. But I won't get it when people like you who want to die are being difficult, so enough questions! Face your destiny so I can get back to my quest. Get in the hole or I'll force you in there."

"Your quest?"

Damien sighed in frustration and placed his fingers between his lips. He whistled, and some black demons came up through the hole. They grabbed Stan's body wherever they could, trying to pull him down into Hell. Stan shook his head and screamed out of instinct, but he couldn't fight back against such a powerful being.

Stan hit the ground with a thud. He wasn't too thrilled about spending an eternity in Hell, but at least his soul had finally found a home. Stanley dusted himself off and began walking around aimlessly, as he had originally planned to do. He didn't know what exactly to expect, but he was sure he'd find something.

Little did he know that the "something" would be just what he wanted to find.

"Stan!" Kyle exclaimed happily as he spotted his best friend coming up over a hill.

"Kyle?" Stan called back in disbelief.

Stan rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. It seemed too good to be true. There,  
lined up in a row, were all of the friends he had recently lost. Kyle and the rest of Damien's victims were chained to a wall, and they now only existed in soul form, but that didn't matter to Stan. They were still right there. They were all in front of him, basically alive and well as if nothing bad had happened. As he quickly ran toward the group, things were finally looking up again for Stan Marsh.

And then Satan appeared.

As the cloud of black smoke that signalled the dark prince's entrance blew away, Satan made a statement that would once again break Stan's heart.

"I'm sorry, you have to go back."

"...What?" Stan said, shocked.

Satan sighed. "We're getting really backed up down here. My son Damien's getting a tryout as the new Death, but he keeps sending people to Hell and not Heaven."

"Wait! The 'new' Death?" Chef questioned.

Satan nodded. "Death is retiring. He needs someone to take over, and my son's one of the people trying out for the job."

"You mean your -son- is the little cracker who killed us all?" Chef asked.

"That's right."

"Well if I were you, I'd whip that boy's ass."

Satan ignored Chef's comment and continued. "The point is I can't accept any innocent souls until we get this straightened out."

"Well when's that gonna be?" Kyle asked.

"Either when my son finishes his trial period, or quits, which won't happen."

Satan used his black magic to conjure up a stamp. He took Stan's hand and stamped the boy's cut wrist. The message "Return To Sender" appeared in place of the wound, which seemed to magically heal. He repeated the process on Stan's other wrist.

"All right, now get going."

"...No!" Stan sadly protested as the news sunk in.

"WHAT!" Everyone said in shocked unison, including Satan and excluding Tall Goth.

"I don't wanna go back." Stan said. "Please, just let me stay here."

"Dude, don't be a retard!" Cartman barked from his position on the wall.

"Yah" Tall Goth agreed, still showing no emotion.

"I never thought I'd say this, but Cartman's right dude." Kyle said. "You're getting a second chance at life Stan. Don't blow that because of us."

"But, I don't wanna lose you guys again." The boy's eyes slowly began to water.

"Awww!" The feminine side of the dark lord found itself coming out a bit thanks to the sad scene unfolding in front of him. Kyle spoke up again before Satan could weaken too much and possibly change his mind.

"Stan, look at it this way. Now that you know Damien's the one doing this, you can go back and stop him. You know, avenge us and stuff."

The red demon clapped his hands together. "That's a great idea!"

"What!" Stan's jaw dropped.

"Look, someone has to stop him okay?" Satan said. "If he fails at his mission, he probably won't get the job. If Damien becomes Death, everyone's going to come here when they die regardless of guilt or innocence. Everyone will suffer and I do NOT need the stress of ruling over the whole world down here."

Kyle nodded. "Think about it Stan. All you've wanted to do lately is figure out who killed everybody. Now you know, so help do something about it. Don't let him get away with this crap."

As Stan considered following Kyle's suggestion, he posed a question about the time constraints of the matter to Damien's father.

"When's his trial period over anyway?"

"He's killing in the name of all the seven deadly sins. Once he's achieved that goal, he'll be considered for the Death job."

It all made sense now. The Goths had mentioned Damien at the funeral. Chef's lover had spoke of someone breaking in. The reports about Kyle and Cartman's deaths, which Stan couldn't help but stumble on in the local news, didn't make much sense until just now, but now things were crystal clear. It had all been the work of Damien. That's why Stan's friends were all in Hell. It was all Damien, and it was all over a stupid position of power.

"Well, if I have to go back to earth, why can't they go back too?" Stan wondered, trying to negotiate a package deal as long as he was being forced to return.

Satan shook his head. "They can't go back because technically they were sinful. Not enough to justify being here if you ask me, but I'm not Death. Death makes the decisions about who goes where and when. Otherwise God and I would be killing a lot more people. He and I only have the power to reject an innocent soul, which you are in this case."

"Well then can't you at least send my friends to Heaven?" Stan pleaded.

"Oh, I am -so- not speaking to God right now." Satan waved his red hand in the air, perhaps because he wanted the good lord to talk to it. "Besides, the fat kid is supposed to be here."

"AY!"

Stan sighed, staring at his chained friends. He had made a promise to Chef some time ago. Now he had to keep it. He had to make a difference, and not let his loved ones die for nothing. Not to mention the countless other innocent souls Damien might send down to Hell.

"What if I do try and stop him? He's the son of the devil for fuck's sake. How'm I supposed to fight that?"

No one had a true answer for that question, but Satan had some information Stan might find useful.

"He can't kill you if you haven't done anything wrong." Satan explained. "One of the rules is that he has to justify the deaths he causes. His reasons are pretty flimsy, but just valid enough to work."

"So then why did he send me here?"

"One of the other rules is that Death has to stop what he's doing and go around picking up the fools who die by accident, suicide, and so on. Oh, by the way, don't do that again kid. That's not cool."

Stan finally caved in, accepting his responsibility as he looked into the eyes of his captive friends.

"All right, I'll go back...For you guys."

"Good luck Stan." Chef said proudly.

Satan closed his eyes and gave a quick chant. He poofed up a red elevator which only had an up button present on its body. He placed a hand to Stanley's back and pushed the boy inside,  
shutting the doors behind him.

As he took the elevator back up to earth, Stan realized that he had more than a second chance at life. He also had a second chance to face Damien. He had a chance to confront who he now knew to be the cause of his recent pain and suffering. He had a chance to do what he should've done the first time. What he would've done, had he known at the time that Damien was behind all the murdering. Basically, Stan had a chance to knock the kid's fucking head off.

That was exactly what he planned to do. 


	9. greed

"(I)t is a sin directly against one's neighbor, since one man cannot over-abound in external riches, without another man lacking them... it is a sin against God, just as all mortal sins, inasmuch as man contemns things eternal for the sake of temporal things." (2, 118, ad 1)  
-Thomas Aquinas, medieval theologian on the subject of Greed

Damien's quest was finally becoming a bit of a challenge. Ironically enough, the new level of difficulty was his own fault.

The high school Damien had been selecting the majority of his victims from decided to implement new policies in the aftermath of the recent student deaths. Strangely enough, at least in Damien's opinion, being nice to others topped the list of new rules. School bullies were now non-existant, thanks to stricter punishments concerning in-school fighting. Teachers discussed problems with unruly students instead of assigning them detention and telling them to shut up. Signs throughout the building reminded students and faculty alike that there was a "no weapons" policy in place. This included such dangerous schoolyard "weapons" as pencils and paper, which could be used for stabbing or cutting respectively. Although the school experienced a small backlash regarding the rules, no one challenged the absurdity of banning paper. "It saves trees, and besides, paper cuts really hurt!" said the head of the PTA.

Unfortunately the new rules all said nothing about the use of black magic. Damien would continue killing until all of the sins had been accounted for. He just needed to find another victim first. With this new wave of kindness sweeping over the school, no one was sinning anymore. It was becoming quite the problem.

As he made his way through the halls one morning, Damien overheard Kenny McCormick talking with Token Williams. The folks in Hell were quite familiar with Kenny. The boy had paid many a visit there in the past. Damien still wouldn't hesitate to kill him if he slipped up of course, but in Kenny's case there was really no point.

Damien leaned against a set of lockers as other students moved around him. He focused in closely on the conversation the other boys were having. Eavsdropping was what led him to his last two kills, so being a snoop obviously had its rewards. Besides, he was having a slow week so far. Surely Kenny would be good for a sin or two.

"I told you no." Token said.

"Why not?" the blonde wondered. "You're rich!"

Token shook his head. "If I give you money, you'll just spend it on drugs."

Damien grinned with newfound hope.

"Drugs!" Kenny replied, shocked. "I just wanna buy lunch!"

Damien snapped his fingers, his hopes dashed.

"My dad said that's what all you poor people say." Token explained. "He says you're all poor because you're addicts, and you never actually buy food with the money we give you."

Kenny glared. "I'm not some homeless crackhead, asshole! I'm just hungry!"

"I can't take that risk. Besides, I only have hundreds on me. Even if you did get food they won't have enough change."

Kenny flipped off his so-called friend before angrily turning on his heels and marching away. "Fine!"

Kenny may have proven a disappointment, but Damien had still found what he was looking for.

Token made his way into the locker room of the school gymnasium. Class hadn't begun yet, but Token wasn't about to trust the other students with his money.

changing clothes for gym was a requirement. This meant storing your regular school clothes in a locker during class, along with any personal items the pockets of those clothes might contain. All students were allowed to put locks on their lockers of course, and of course Token had the most expensive, high-tech lock on the market today, but that still wasn't evough for him. He didn't trust the other middle class students one bit.

Token reached into his locker and pulled out a hollow, decoy wall he had put up inside of the locker on the first day of school. He placed his massive wallet between the fake and the real walls, and then closed the gap between the two. Token sighed in relief as he removed his gym clothes and shut the locker door. His money was once again safe from any intruders.

Except the one standing right behind him.

Damien finally got the rich boy's attention after he was done reapplying his lock.

"You wouldn't share your money." he pointed out right away, not even wasting time exchanging pleasantries.

Token jumped in surprise. He turned to face the demon. "Who are you!" he snapped.

"Let's just say I'm new here."

"Well new kid, you aren't supposed to be spying on me!" Token said in a slightly annoyed tone.

"What's the matter?" Damien questioned. "Afraid I'll take your money?"

"Well, yes."

The son of Satan grinned a dark grin as his eyes began to flash a violent shade of red. "You should be more concerned about the oil."

Before he could ask What was meant by that comment, Token felt his feet heating up rapidly. The floor around him was turning into a very hot substance. Apparently it was oil. Very hot oil.

Since Token was apparently used to the finer things in life, Damien made sure that he used only the finest, slickest oil imported all the way from Hades. He didn't bother letting the rich jerk in on that information though. Token's screams would've only blocked out his voice anyway. The black kid tried to find some solid ground to stand on; but everywhere he went, Damien's eyes followed, turning the surrounding area into boiling, rising oil.

As the hot fluid swallowed up his body, Token stared up at Damien in disbelief. The slowly dying boy asked himself many internal questions. Why would someone he'd never met before today take his life? How did he conjure up the oil? How could this kid be so heartless? So cruel? So...

Token lost his train of thought when he saw Damien breaking into his locker. He never actually said he wouldn't take the money.

Token gasped in horror and pain as Damien removed the fake wall and snatched his wallet. "You won't be needing this."

Token glared at the demon, helpless to stop him. It was then that he blurted out the most likely answer to why Damien was doing all of this.

"You're a dick!"

At that point, the oil went over his head.HIs last words were both fitting and true.

As Damien casually walked off from the scene of the crime, weighed down slightly more thanks to the overgrown wallet in his pocket, he went over the number of sins/kills in his mind. The sin of greed? Check! "Five down, two to go." he said proudly to himself before walking out the nearest exit door.

With his newfound wealth, Damien could now partake in some delightful earthly sinning of his own. It would be a lot more fun than going to a school with no paper. 


	10. sloth AKA beer and raisins

Kenny and Butters walked to the Marsh residence together after school. It was a rather slow walk because their backpacks were loaded up with more than the average textbook. The boys were carrying various toys and snack foods on them as well. They knew that Stan liked every single item they had with them, and they were counting on that. Surely something they had would help to cheer him up.

"This is gonna be tough you know." Kenny warned his fellow blonde. "The guy lost his best friend. He's gonna be miserable, he's gonna be depressing, and he's not gonna want to do anything. But we have to keep trying no matter how hard it is to cheer him up. Okay?"

Butters nodded understandingly. "All right then."

The boys eventually reached the house. Before they could even knock at the front door, Stan flung it open.

"You guys!" the dark-haired boy exclaimed. "I know what I have to do now! I know who killed everybody!" Stan announced with a smile.

Butters blinked over at Kenny. "Wow, he -is- miserable."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Kenny asked Stan.

"It was Damien."

"Damien?" the blondes said together.

"Yeah!" Stan said. "Satan told me he was doing it. I killed myself and I went to Hell, and Satan said Damien's trying to become the new Death because the old one's retiring. He's been killing people for the seven deadly sins. He needs to be stopped though, because he keeps sending everyone to Hell. Oh! And the guys were all there too! It was rad!"

Butters stared in disbelief at his friend. After a long minute of silence had passed, he reached inside of his backpack.

"Stan? I-I think you need to just have some cookies, a-and lay down. You're going crazy. Here, I baked them myself."

"Butters I'm not going crazy." Stan insisted. He grabbed some cookies anyway. "I'm telling you, I went to Hell and I saw my dead friends and Satan."

"It's about time." Kenny said, not nearly as skeptical as Butters was about his friend's story.

"Huh?" Stan questioned.

"It's about time Death retired." Kenny elaborated. "That poor fucker worked fourteen hour days on me alone."

Stanley rolled his eyes. "You guys this is important. I need to find Damien and stop him from killing people! Now!"

"W-well where in the sam heck are you supposed to find him?" Butters wondered.

"I don't know." Stan admitted.

Screams were suddenly heard coming from down the street, drawing the boys' attention. As they turned their heads they noticed the people the screams were eminating from running toward and then passed them. A single storm cloud in an otherwise clear sky flew behind the running people, shooting out bolts of lightning.

Butters gasped in sudden realization. "You know what fellas? I think maybe he's down that way."

The three boys decided to investigate.

As the boys walked further down the path of destruction, they saw some pretty odd things. Bats flew by in the air, making Butters jump. Small piles of burning rubble were present on the ground. It was now quite certain that Damien would be found at the end of this strange, messy trail. The worst sight of all however came when the boys turned the corner.

There, in the middle of the road, was a litter of dead kittens.

It was likely that Damien was behind their deaths. One cat getting run down in the street was somewhat common, but a whole family? Besides, it made sense according to his diabolical quest. Cats were some of the laziest creatures alive. They just sat around licking themselves until a human provided them with food or better grooming. They held no jobs and unless you had rats in your house, they contributed nothing to society. This was, technically, an act of sloth.

This made Stan especially sad. He didn't know any of the cats personally, but he was still a huge animal lover. It was almost as if Damien was mocking him by taking away everything he loved. From his best friend to a cute bunch of stray felines, nothing that made Stan happy appeared to be sacred to that son of a bitch. There was seemingly nothing and no one Damien could leave alone. If it meant something to Stan Marsh, that bastard was going to take it away. As they approached the end of the trail, Stan's sadness slowly turned to anger.

"WOOHOO!" Kenny exclaimed. The boys had found Damien all right. It seemed the earthly delight he wanted to partake in was that of the establishment known as Raisins.

Upon spotting the demon spawn inside, Stan's face turned as red as Damien's father. He started to powerwalk straight for the table Damien was occupying.

"Hey Stan?" Kenny called after him.

Stan didn't respond. At the moment he could care less about whatever Kenny had to say. He could even care less about the Raisins girls. All Stan wanted to do right now was fight.

"Stan!" Kenny called again in a louder voice, thinking perhaps his friend hadn't heard him before.

Damien put down the alcoholic brew he was sipping when he noticed Stan approaching his table.

"They let you come back?"

Without uttering a single word, Stan balled up a fist and drove it straight into the side of Damien's face. He put all his weight behind that single punch, and may have even broken his hand doing so, but he didn't care. Retribution was going to be his. He deserved it. His dead friends did too.

Caught off guard, the son of Satan fell to the floor and rubbed the assaulted area with his hand.

"Not smart"

"FUCK YOU!" Stan shouted. "YOU KILLED MY FRIENDS! YOU RUINED MY LIFE!"

One shot wasn't enough, and Stan was already tired of talking. He needed more. His one fist already worn out, and Damien still on the floor of the establishment, Stan began kicking frantically at the other boy. Unfortunately, Stan failed to notice Damien's glowing red eyes. His own anger was starting to rise, and that wasn't a good thing.

"Oh shit..." Kenny muttered from across the room. Kenny did notice the bright red glow, and tapped Butters on the shoulder.

"Get down" he warned.

"Huh?" Butters replied. His entire focus was currently on one of the dancing Raisins girls. Butters couldn't figured out for the life of him how that poor girl's chest became larger than her head.

Kenny grabbed Butters and pulled him underneath the nearest table. Within seconds Damien had levitated a few of the bar's glass pitchers of beer. He hurled them all in Stan's direction.

Stan stomped at the other boy for as long as he could. He stumbled a bit when the first mug hit him, but kept angrily kicking away. The second one phased him a bit, but he kept kicking his weakening legs. By the third hit though, Stan could no longer take it. He fell to the ground with a thud, allowing Damien to finally get back on his feet. The demonic one continued kicking Stan's ass for another minute or so, just for good measure. When the last large container had been broken over Stan's skull, Damien headed for the nearest exit.

"I'd slit your wrists, but you beat me to it." Damien remarked from the front door as he took one last look at the fallen mortal. "You shouldn't have come back. Fuck with me again, and you'll never return from Hell." he warned.

With that, the dark one stormed out of the building.

"I tried to warn you dude." Kenny said as he slid out from under the safety of the table. "That kid has powers."

Stan just groaned in response as Kenny and Butters helped him back up. It was a good thing they were there to help too, because Stan didn't feel very much like getting up from yet another loss. He had tried to avenge the death of his friends, and he had failed. Quite miserably in fact. His friends were dead, his vengeance was a bust, and nothing Kenny or Butters had in their backpacks was going to make him feel any better about that.

Worse yet, someone had to pay for all that broken glass.

To Be Continued 


	11. the J word

Stan winced as another piece of glass was pulled out of his face. He hated making any sound right now, since it technically meant having to talk to Butters and Kenny. They were helping Stan remove the small glass shards inside the Raisins bathroom. He hated that too, but not because he was embarrassed to have his friends see the aftermath of his ass-kicking. Rather, he hated their help because it meant he couldn't stay mad at them forever.

"You've got some pretty mean cuts there Stan." Butters said. "W-when we go home, we can stop by my house. I got some Garfield Band Aids. Why we'll fix you up good as new."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Stan suddenly hissed, making Butters jump back slightly and drop his jaw.

"Well, at least he's finally talking again." Kenny said.

"Fuck you!" Stan exclaimed in Kenny's general direction.

"Dude, what the fuck is your problem?" Kenny questioned.

"Yeah" Butters spoke up again in confusion. "We're only tryin' to help. Wh-what the fu- ...Heck is wrong with you?" he asked.

Butters was never one for casual swearing. Baby Jesus cried upon hearing that kind of potty mouth, or so Butters was told.

"Where the hell were you when I was getting my ass kicked? Huh!" Stan replied angrily. "Where was your 'help' then!"

Butters answered the rhetorical questions, quite embarrassed by his behavior when he looked back on it now.

"uh...Well we were sorta...h-hidin' under a table..."

"You could've helped." Stan continued, his voice getting calmer as he spoke. "They were your friends too. It's like you didn't even give a shit!"

Kenny shook his head. "It's not that we don't care. Although, I was never close to that goth kid."

"You know what I mean!"

"Did I or did I not try to warn you about Damien's powers?"

Stan went silent and yanked another glass fragment from his cheek. Kenny had him there.

"Stan, when you've died as much as I have, you get numb to the whole thing." Kenny explained. "Death is just part of life."

"Not for our friends it's not." Stan argued. "He killed them Kenny. He killed all of them, on purpose, and sent them to a place they shouldn't be except for maybe Cartman."

"Yeah, and that sucks." Kenny agreed. "That's why we're here with you now: To help you stop him. I'm just saying you can't go up to the son of the devil, no matter how pissed off you are, and expect a normal fight."

Stan hated to admit it, but Kenny's reasoning checked out here. His anger for the first blonde fading away already, Stan decided to try his luck with the other one. He looked to Butters next, wanting his explaination for a seeming lack of emotion.

"Well?"

Butters nervously mashed his fingers together.

"W-well gosh, of course I care about everyone dyin' like that. It's just, I-I think death is beautiful. I mean, sure it makes us really sad, b-but our loved ones find eternal peace a-and happiness. So after a while of bein' sad, w-we should be happy for 'em. Otherwise we're just bein' selfish."

"They aren't finding eternal peace in hell, Butters." Stan said. "And if Damien becomes the new death, that's where everyone's gonna go when they die. No one's gonna be happy forever in Heaven again. Ever."

Butters' eyebrows began to furrow. "Gosh, that Damien's a...Why he's a..."

"Asshole?" Kenny offered.

"Piece of shit?" Stan supplied.

"Aw heck, I'll just say it. H-he's a big -jerk-, that's what he is!"

Butters hoped that God would forgive him for using the J word. He made a mental note to say a prayer for fogiveness tonight.

"Fine" Stan said as he checked out the damage to his body in a mirror. "I'm just saying you guys could help a little more. I know this is my quest, but it's not like they just died by accident. They were murdered, and we have a chance to catch the guy who did it."

"Okay, okay." Kenny agreed. "Next time we'll help you more. You obviously need it anyway."

Stan glared a bit at his 'expert' friend. "So how -should- I deal with Damien then?" Stan asked.

"Well, you're dealing with a sadistic, soulless demon spawn. You should try to find somebody who thinks like he does to help."

Stan blinked. "That's a good idea."

"Yeah" Butters concurred as well that Kenny's idea was a good one.

Fight pure evil with other pure evil. It made sense. Maybe Kenny really was an expert on this stuff after all.

"Th-there's just one problem fellas."

"What?" they asked.

"Where the heck are we gonna find a lawyer?" 


	12. the deal

The pits of Hell were certainly no picnic. The residents were bored, hot, annoyed, and in pain on a daily basis. Stan's deceased friends were missing their families and other loved ones every day. Even more so than the usual inhabitants of Hell, considering that those people died when it was their time to. One day, Cartman finally said what everyone was thinking.

"God dammit you guys, we need to get the fuck out of here."

For once, everyone agreed with the bile spewing out of Cartman's mouth. Hell was bad enough on its own, but the little things made the situation a thousand times worse. Kyle and Cartman found it both fitting and annoying that the time they spent in Hell was being spent together. Chef was suffering from serious sexual withdraw. Tall Goth didn't mind the flames or the death, but he spent every day around murdered girl scouts listening to pop music. It was definitely driving him mad even though goths supposedly had no ability to feel. Token, who had since joined the group, spent his days listening to bad standup comedy. It was mostly racial material from black comedians. Token failed to see what was so funny about blacks and whites being different, especially since he wasn't one of the ghetto youths the comedians were catering to. The white guys in the crowd, most notably Jamie Kennedy and Fred Durst, seemed to find the jokes hysterical. Even the cats Damien killed were having troubles. They spent every day trying to capture a ball of yarn that was always dangled just slightly out of reach.

While Satan took things a bit easier on the South Park group due to what he felt was misplacement in Hell, they still had a lot to deal with. They needed a way out, and fast. Unfortunately, while everyone agreed with Cartman's sentiments about getting out of Hell, no one had any idea how to go about it.

Stan found himself a lawyer just as Butters and Kenny had suggested. Kenny and Butters even went with Stan when he did it-thus keeping their promise to help him out more in the future. Luckily Kyle's dad was willing to work for free on the case due to the person they'd be going after. He didn't question Stan's highly unlikely story. Gerald had lived in South Park long enough to know that some strange things happened there. Besides, like Stan, he wanted some form of closure. Some type of revenge. If Stan said Damien was responsible for Kyle's death, then Damien was the one Gerald wanted to see go down.

There was just one problem. Now that Stan had somebody capable of understanding and combating Damien's sheer evil on his side, he needed to once again find the son of a bitch.

Token's death was the last straw for the school board. Classes were officially cancelled for a week. This gave Stan more time to track down Damien, but it also gave Damien a reason not to hang around. Stan couldn't figure out why Damien chose to spend his time in South Park to begin with, let alone where else he might want to go. Since mister Broflovski was now on board, Stan decided to use Gerald's study as a base of operations rather than his own house. The last thing he needed was Damien randomly showing up in his bathroom again.

With school out for a week and nothing better to do, Kenny and Butters were once again able to join Stan on his mission. On their first day off, the boys spent some time in the study looking over various religious texts and a single computer until Stan broke the silence with a rhetorical question.

"If I were the son of the devil, where would I go?"

"Well not to Heaven; that's for darn sure." Butters replied in a totally serious tone.

The phone in the study rang. Stan picked up the receiver out of reflex, but regretted taking the call. This was Gerald's private phone in his private study. He probably used it for important lawyer business, which was probably what this phone call was going to be about. An actual paying client wanting to speak to his lawyer about his case-not some kid.

"Hello, Broflovski residence." Stan said into the phone's receiver, just in case someone out there confused a young boy's voice with the voice of their attorney.

"How's the search going?" Gerald asked on the other end of the line.

Although he agreed to help work the case, he wasn't doing much so far. Gerald couldn't deal with the pain of his lost son, and Stan couldn't blame him for feeling that way. He was sure Gerald's help would come in handy at some point, but for now dealing with Damien meant dealing with the fact that Kyle was dead and not coming back. Gerald couldn't deal with that yet, and it wasn't too easy on Stan either. For now, Gerald was literally phoning it in.

"Not too well," Stan replied to the question. "We don't even know where to start looking for him. We got lucky last time."

"Well the local police already have a warrant out." Gerald responded. "It's possible he left the state."

"The police?" Stan blinked at the phone. "When I told the cops my story they just laughed at me!"

"Most of the murders happened privately, so there isn't much evidence to go on." Gerald explained.

Stan raised a surprised eyebrow. "I didn't know there was any."

"Liane Cartman said her son was last seen eating with Damien," Gerald explained. "She only had a description to go on. Chef's lover had a vaguer description of a dark-cloaked figure breaking into Chef's house. It's not much but it's something. They could still find him."

Stan sighed. It was hard enough finding Damien in Colorado, let alone out of state. And, even if they managed to find him again, then what? Stan got his ass handed to him last time. How were you supposed to fight a homicidal bastard with supernatural powers? As much as he wanted to avenge his lost loved ones and as much support as he now had, Stan was starting to feel pretty hopeless.

"Well just keep looking." Gerald said. "I'll be home later."

With that, the call was ended. Gerald sighed as he hung up his phone. He began to stare at a picture on his work desk of his smiling, departed son. He quickly buried himself in paper work before the tears could start to fall.

Back in the study, Stan hung up too.

"The police won't do shit." Kenny said in response to Stan's side of the phone conversation.

Stan briefly snapped out of his hopeless funk to turn his head and look at his friend.

"Why not?"

"If they get near him, Damien will just kill them too."

"But Satan said he can't kill people unless they've done something wrong."

"He'll find a reason."

That was probably true. This guy justified the murder of kittens.

"It just figures they give us this week off." Kenny added.

"Huh?"

"We were gonna have this week off anyway. They only 'gave' us this week off so we won't have to stay longer at the end of the year. It's such bullshit."

"What were we gonna have this week off for?" Stan wondered.

"spring break, dude."

A look at a nearby calendar confirmed it. A second passed. Stan blinked. He picked up the phone one more time and placed it against his ear before dialing Gerald's office.

"Get to Conundrum Hot Springs beach." Stan ordered.

That had to be where Damien was.

Conundrum Hot Springs was south of Aspen. It was considered a popular beach in Colorado. That was probably due to the fact that it was also a clothing optional beach. Needless to say, Kenny didn't mind tagging along on the journey. Butters came too, but kept his eyes closed the whole time once they arrived. Gerald and Stan were all business, paying no mind to the naked people around them. They were there to find Damien and do...Well, they weren't sure what they were going to do exactly, but finding Damien was key.

"Stan, I don't think I can do this." Gerald admitted.

"I know." Stan said. "But you have to try. You're here to be my lawyer. You have to keep your cool."

"He killed my son!"

"I know Mister Broflovski! I know, okay? I'm not saying it's gonna be easy."

"Just don't get all in his face." Kenny advised. "If you do he'll just get pissed off and hurt you like he did to Stan."

"Yeah" Stan said in a slightly annoyed tone.

Gerald sighed. "I'll try."

The group made its way past some kids building a sand castle. They maneuvered around empty beer cans that were strewn about the beach by all the spring breakers. A random woman flashed her breasts, drawing only Kenny's attention.

"What the heck are we doin' here anyway?" Butters protested, feeling uncomfortable around all the drunks and half-nude girls.

"When kids aren't sinning at school, they're sinning at a beach on spring break." Stan explained.

Stan's theory was correct. Damien sat on a beach blanket near the water, staring at the MTV camera crew as they filmed 'wild' spring break activities with only the most aesthetically pleasing teenagers. The activities mostly consisted of barely legal girls dancing for the cameras and had very little, if anything, to do with music. Growing bored with the lack of sin that he was searching for, Damien decided to increase the body count for his resume. Adding to the number of bodies he sent to Hell wouldn't count toward the job if the victims didn't die due to one of the seven sins, but spring break was still about having fun.

Damien left his blanket and approached Carson Daily, who was hosting the event for MTV. Security quickly got between the demon and the spring break party host.

"It's cool you guys." Carson insisted. "His dad's responsible for my success."

"I want a microphone." Damien ordered, not caring to make small talk.

His wish was soon granted, and he took to the stage.

"People!" he called out. "The most sinful person on this beach gets a reward. Who wants to be a sinner!"

People began loudly cheering. Some started to argue with each other as they pushed one another aside to try and get on stage. Stan's crew heard the commotion and turned their heads to observe the nearby ruckus. Stan spotted the unmistakable face of Damien on the MTV stage and moved toward him with the others.

"Remember, be calm." Stan said to Gerald. "No matter what happens, no matter what he says, you have to remain calm." Stan told Gerald.

"Right."

As soon as they got within ten feet of Damien, Stan lunged right for him.

"ARGH! YOU ASSHOLE! YOU KILLED MY FRIENDS!"

Damien pulled his sunglasses down to observe Stan. "So that's what this is all about?" he questioned, as if it were no big deal. Stan had shouted that Damien was responsible for the death of his friends the last time they'd met up, but it had never really sunk in to Damien's mind until now.

"I HATE YOU!" Stan continued screaming as his friends and his attorney held him back from attempting to rip Damien's heart out with his bare hands.

"Most do." Damien replied. "Now leave. I already warned you what would happen if you fucked with me again."

"You just threatened my client with violence in front of witnesses." Gerald informed Damien, doing his best to stay in lawyer mode. "I suppose we can just add that to your list of charges."

Damien snorted. "You got a lawyer?"

"Yeah! I did!" Stan snapped. "And we're gonna get you!"

"Doubtful. The only laws I follow are the laws of death. And once I have that title, things are going to change. I follow no guidelines but my own. I am above your rules."

"You think you're such hot shit!" Stan spat. "Well guess what kid: I'm not scared of you! I don't care how many people you kill! I don't care how many powers you have! I'm still here, in your face, and I'm gonna be for as long as you're on earth! I'm not fucking SCARED of you and I'm sure as fuck not impressed!"

"OOH!" the crowd around them yelled. "Oh no he didn't!" added a drunk man in the background.

Damien's manhood had been challenged. He couldn't stand for that. This kid was becoming like an annoying little gnat to Damien. It was time to squash him.

"You won't be able to bother me if I find a reason to kill you." Damien said casually. "Which I will." he promised.

"Threats of murder!" Gerald accused.

Damien rolled his eyes to Gerald's remark as MTV's security team approached, wanting to defuse the situation before a potential riot broke out.

"Take them away." Damien instructed. "I have a job to finish."

Stan frowned as security got between he and Damien. He wanted to hurt this guy, and he wanted to do it badly. But how? How could he get his revenge? More importantly, how could he get Damien to fail at getting the job? It was a job that Stan already knew he shouldn't have. That was actually supposed to be his main reason for dealing with Damien at all, but Stan's selfish desire for blood was starting to take top priority. It seemed that the more people got between he and Damien, the more Stan wanted to rip the kid's head off alone in a dark alley.

As security told him to move along, the words of Damien echoed in Stan's mind. He had a job to finish. A job...

"WAIT!" Stan called out suddenly. "What if we made you a deal?"

"A deal?" Damien asked, not even pretending to sound interested. "What sort of deal could you possibly make me?"

"If I beat you, you have to give up the Death job forever."

"Give up the job?" Damien blinked. "Why the fuck should I agree to that?"

"Because if you beat me..." Stan paused for a moment, thinking of what he could possibly offer as a reward. "...If you beat me, my lawyer will give you a recommendation."

"WHAT!" everyone around Stan said in shock.

Damien's interest suddenly rose. "What?"

"Every applicant for a job needs references. If you get one from a lawyer, you're a synch to get the job."

"HE KILLED MY SON!" Gerald reminded Stan.

"Which would make a reference from you all the more impressive." Damien admitted with a smirk, making Gerald want to lunge at Damien himself and find his own attorney to handle the assault charges.

"Don't let him talk that shit!" one drunken man yelled. "Kick his ass!"

"You're on." Damien decided.

"Wh-what're you gonna beat him in, Stan?" Butters asked. "A pie eatin' contest? A dance off?"

"Fuck that." Damien shook his head. "We'll fight."

"Fine!" Stan agreed, a bit too quickly.

"NO! He beat your ass last time." Kenny reminded Stan.

"I don't care." Stan said with rising determination. If that's how Damien wanted it, that's how it had to be. This was Stan's only shot.

Damien produced a contract immediately thanks to his powers. He tossed it Gerald's way.

"Look it over and sign it." Damien said.

"Where is this fight going to happen?" Gerald asked as he skimmed the paperwork. "It doesn't say in here."

Damien shrugged. "I suppose we can do it at the school. I'm familiar with that area and no one will be around to break things up."

Stan nodded. "When?"

"Tomorrow. At midnight." Damien replied.

Butters gasped. "You're gonna make us stay up past our bed times like that? You ARE evil!"

"Thank you."

With that, Damien decided to take his own exit from the boring spring break scene. A cloud of smoke filled the area, making everyone cough. When it cleared, Damien was once again gone.

His absence made Stan once again want to destroy him even worse than before. 


	13. the final battle

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I hate to be one of those writers who kisses his own ass, but I'm very proud of this FINALLY completed story. I have worked on this fanfic for over a year, so needless to say I'm glad to see it reach its conclusion. I hope you all enjoy the ending. I still think this is one of the more original South Park fanfics out there right now, so I hope you readers will give it a chance. I also realize that I took forever between chapter updates. For making you all wait I sincerely apologize, and you won't have to worry about that anymore because this fic is DONE!

As you all know by now, Isaac Hayes left the show. Unfortunately, that really screwed up my fic since Chef was still a character at the time I started writing this. I make a little joke about that at the end. I hope you all don't mind. :)

Thanks to all of my readers, beta readers, etc. for your continued patience. Enjoy the conclusion (or the whole fic if this is your first time discovering it) and read and review!

Stan had gotten into plenty of fights in his life, but none of them were as important or going to be as difficult to win as the upcoming battle with Damien.

With less than a day to prepare, Stan hit the gym and trained as hard as he possibly could. He racked his brain for anything that might be of some kind of help. Uncle Jimbo taught him some boxing once, so Stan worked on hitting a sand bag. Stan and his friends had also taken a martial arts class at one point, so Stan boned up on some striking and kicking variations. Really though, what good would any of this do against a kid with demonic powers? Unfortunately, it was all Stan had to work with.

"We have a problem!"

Stan sighed. 'We have a problem' was the absolute last sentence he wanted to hear right now. With only hours to get ready for the fight of his life, Stan didn't need more pressure piled on. He was already responsible for avenging his dead friends and making sure the afterlife was safe for other souls. What else could be going wrong?

Knowing what Damien was capable of, Gerald had spent the last several hours looking over the fight contract for any disputed points or potential loopholes. It appeared that he had finally found something, and called Stan's attention to it immediately.

Stan paused his workout and turned to face Gerald, who had rushed into the gym with the problematic news. Kenny and Butters were right behind him, as usual. Stanley was thankful for all of his continued support. Stan stared at Gerald with concern and braced himself for the bad news.

"What's the problem?"

"According to this contract, the rules of death will apply during the fight."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means he can kill you," Kenny explained on the lawyer's behalf. Kenny was of course all too familiar with the rules of death.

"He needs to justify the people he kills," Gerald continued. "If you're physically threatening him it's an obvious case of self-defense."

Stan gave the sand bag another punch.

"Dammit! Son of a bitch! And there's nothing we can do? Mister Broflovski, you're a lawyer. Can't you negotiate with him?"

Gerald shook his head. "Damien has all the leverage here Stan. He has little to gain and everything to lose in this fight. He knows if we don't play by his rules he can just keep on killing people and we won't be able to stop him. As much as it hurts me to say it, I think you should just forget this whole thing. If you sign this contract, you'll be putting your own life at risk."

Stan prepared to unleash another string of obscenities, but stopped himself before any words could get out. Gerald was right. Damien didn't have to gamble in this fight, but he agreed to do so anyway. He poofed up that contract for Stan to sign without so much as a second thought after his manhood and his ability to strike fear were challenged back at the beach.

If Stan couldn't outpower Damien, he had to outsmart him.

Back in Hell, the South Park group was trying to find a means of escape back up to earth. Cartman was the first to suggest an idea. He seemed rather excited about it.

"You guys! Why don't we tattoo a map of Hell on Kyle's body like on that prison show? I'll find some needles!"

"No," Kyle denied with an angry glare. "Look, there was a way down here. There has to be a way back up too."

"In case you forgot, Jew, Damien and some demons dragged us all down here. Who's gonna push us back up?"

"I don't think all of Hell -could- lift your fat ass!"

Before the two could bicker any more, Satan made another appearance before the group in another bright flash of fire.

"Excuse me? Hi," the dark lord greeted.

"Yah?" Tall Goth answered on the group's behalf.

"Listen, there's a rumor going around that all of you are trying to break out of Hell. I'm here to tell you that we can't have that."

"Why not?" Token asked.

"Well because then everyone would try to leave and the lake of fire would get super crowded. It'd just cause a whole lot of drama and I really don't need that right now."

Chef attempted to reason with the demon. The ladies were often swayed by his charm. Perhaps a big, red gay guy would be too.

"Look Satan, your son is abusing his power. Even you said he exaggerated how badly we sinned. Can't we just talk to Death and try to work something out? You told us all before that he could send innocent people back."

Satan shook his head. "No. He's very busy taking applications right now. Once he finishes that he'll pick the one to take his place. I can tell you that my son is being heavily considered, so unfortunately it looks like you're totally screwed."

Kyle protested. "But that would suck! You can't just sit back and let your son do these things Satan."

"He has the power of Death until his tryout is over. I can't tamper with that."

"Well you need to do something," Chef said. "Look, children need discipline. He's messing with people's lives here. He's sending them where they shouldn't go. You pulled some strings to get him the chance, and he blew it. When a child messes up you don't reward him. You take something away."

"My hands are tied. But I'm really sorry for all the inconvenience."

"Inconvenience!" Kyle shouted. "He killed us and sent us to Hell!"

"Tell you what," Satan offered. "Here's a coupon for a free sin."

"A free sin?" Cartman repeated. He seemed to have some interest in the idea.

Satan reached into his loin cloth and produced some small slips of paper. He handed them out to the South Park clique.

"These coupons are all good for one free sin for each of you," Satan explained. "It won't count against you for placement in Heaven or Hell."

Cartman briefly stared at his coupon, pondering the power it gave him.

"So, if I were to use my coupon to kill Kyle-"

"FUCK YOU!" Kyle replied. "I don't want some gay-ass coupon! I want to go back to earth where I belong!"

"Look, those coupons are the best I can do," Satan stated firmly. "Leaving would screw up Hell and I'm not about to let any of you do that. You're stuck here. Death can't help you and neither can I. Deal with it.""

The group groaned in defeat and headed off for another section of Hell. Before moving with them, Cartman had one final comment for Satan to consider.

"You know what? You shouldn't be red. You should be pink."

"Pink?"

"Yeah, pink. Because you're a pussy!"

The fat boy stomped off in a huff. Satan gave a sigh, staring blankly into the distance as he considered the group's words.

As agreed upon, they met at midnight. Damien didn't make it clear where at the abandoned school building the fight would take place, but he would no doubt show himself when the time came. Stan entered the school with the usual entourage by his side. They had been with him through the ordeal so far, and they weren't about to stay at home now.

"Are you ready Stan?" Butters asked.

"I guess."

"I just hope your plan works," Kenny remarked. "It -better- work!" he added with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"It will," Stan assured him. "Just wait for the right time and go for it."

"Stan, I really think you should reconsider," Gerald pleaded. "You're risking your life."

"I don't care. Damien made me not want to live once already. I'm not letting him ruin people's lives anymore."

Just then, Damien appeared in another cloud of smoke. He gave Stan a demonic smirk and rolled up his sleeves, wanting to get right to the matter.

"All right, let's do this."

Gerald shook his head. "Not so fast Damien. We have your contract here, but we put a change in it. We want you to fight him like a man. No magic, no powers, just you and Stan."

The demon boy scoffed. "Why should I agree to that? You people are in no position to negotiate. I don't even have to do this if I don't want to."

Stan blinked. "Oh, I get it. You're too scared to fight me normally. You're afraid you'll lose."

"H'yeah!" Butters exclaimed. "Why, you gave him what for back at Raisins, Stan. B-before he made the glass ruin your face and all."

"Pussy," Kenny mocked.

Damien glared at them all. He had once again been insulted. Who the fuck did this mortal think he was messing with? Damien had killed many people, and this kid was taunting him?

"Doing it with your bare hands is more fun anyway. Fine, no magic. My first victim died from a stab wound in case you forgot. It'll be my pleasure to send you back down to Hell with him."

Stan glared. "We'll see about that."

But Damien wasn't stupid. He held up a hand to indicate a hault to the proceedings.

"Not so fast. I have a revision of my own. If this fight's going to be between you and I, it means your little friends here can't touch me. This fight is only between us."

The human boy nodded. "Deal! My friends won't touch you."

Damien nodded in agreement and snapped his fingers, burning new words into the page. Stan took the contract from Gerald, removed a pen from his own pants pocket, and signed his name on the dotted line. He tossed the contract Damien's way.

Damien scoffed. He wasn't about to blow his job as Death thanks to a reworded piece of paper that some sneaky earth lawyer tampered with. He caught the contract and looked it over himself for any one-sided changes they might have avoided telling him about. As Damien looked over the revised paperwork, the rage once again started building up inside of Stan. He wanted to do this already. He loved punching the demon out and had been savouring the memory ever since. He wanted to do it again. Actually, he wanted to do worse things for a much longer period of time, and he wanted to do it right now! Soon Stan could finally get his hands on the one responsible for killing his loved ones.

"Ha! Some lawyer you have. He left in that the rules of death would apply."

Once Damien had finished looking over and finally signed the contract, the battle was on.

Stan's crew stood back against some nearby lockers while the two combatants circled one another in the middle of the hallway. It almost resembled a bare-knuckled boxing match. Damien landed the first connecting blow, socking Stan in the face. Stan, angered, ferociously began punching back. He landed a few shots to the chin until Damien punched him across the face again. Unfortunately, this sent Stan falling backwards into his friends.

"Come on Stan!" Butters encouraged.

Stan quickly lunged forward, throwing a quick jab. It struck Damien in the jaw. He quickly recovered and threw a devastating right hook to Stan's head. The throbbing was immediate. Stan recoiled, and nearly fell back again, but luckily the lockers were behind him to hold him up this time.

Damien landed two more hooks; One left, one right. Stan was losing the fight, but his friends couldn't make a move to help.

Stan covered up his face and hit an uppercut of his own to Damien's body, sending him reeling back. Next, recalling his karate training, Stan leapt forward and kicked Damien in the head with two side kicks, knocking him down. Stan took advantage, pouncing on Damien and punching away at his face. Damien fought back by nailing Stan in the nose with a brutal uppercut. Stan rolled off, feeling blood running down his face from the punch. The boys stumbled back to their feet and moved down the hall. Stan's crew followed.

Stan ducked into an open classroom. Damien followed. Stan moved back in quickly, but Damien was faster. Damien hit him three more times in the head. Stan went to punch Damien, but Damien ducked the shot and used the momentum to flip Stan over onto a desk. He gave Stan a massive headbutt, making the boy's head spin even more than it already was. He was now bleeding from both the nose and the head. Damien decided to try his hand at helping the boy lose oxygen. He wrapped his hands around Stanley's throat and began to choke him. As Gerald and company entered the room, Stan punched Damien as hard as he possibly could. Damien was knocked back against the blackboard, momentarily stunned. Stan got to his feet again and launched himself at Damien with a jumping kick. Stan fell on Damien as they crashed to the ground again.

The next punch shattered Damien's nose upon impact, finally drawing his blood.

As the red liquid flowed like water from both boy's bodies, Kenny, Butters and Gerald took cover against the wall while Damien and Stan traded more punches to the face. Stan grabbed Damien by the hair and slammed his head against one of the classroom desks, leaving a blood stain. Damien stumbled back and grabbed onto a chair for balance. He lifted it up and aimed it toward Stan's stomach, jamming one of the legs into him.

Stan hunched over in pain and stepped backward, knocking over a few desks along the way. He headed out of the classroom, and again Damien gave chase. They continued brawling all over the building while the others stayed a respectable distance away. Damien and Stan eventually reached the back of the school. Damien spotted a nearby window and brought Stan to his knees thanks to a kick in the groin.

"Come on you son of a bitch!"

"Oh jeez, Stan's gettin' his butt kicked," Butters remarked.

Damien took a moment to catch his breath and stop the bloodflow as best he could. Stan grabbed onto the ledge for support, attempting to get back up. Damien charged him, preparing to drive him through glass once again. Luckily, Stan heard him approaching, and whirled around, blasting Damien with a roundhouse kick. Damien fell against a table, but Stan wasn't letting him get off that easy. He grabbed the boy by his Death robe and hurled him into the glass. It promptly broke around the boy's face.

"Doesn't feel too good does it!" Stan mocked.

Despite the glass in his face, Damien saw the next jab coming a mile away. He moved his head just far back enough for the punch to miss. His left arm came out like a missile, nearly breaking Stan's jaw. He threw a few more light jabs a couple inches away from the old man then danced back and forth. Then out of nowhere jabbed the right side of the old mans head causing him to step back a little but otherwise retain his posture. Damien hit another punch, but this time Stan blocked it. This left Damien's side exposed. Stan took advantage and hit three hard punches to the ribs. Damien sneered as Stan wound back his fist for another hit. In one swift moiton Damien stepped back and ducked slightly. The punch missed and the demon came back up with a strong uppercut of his own. It was so hard it knocked Stan a good three feet before he came crashing to the floor.

This time as Stan got back to his feet, Damien tackled him. It knocked both boys further back and closer to the next wing of the school: The cafeteria.

Damien straddled Stan, hitting him with a barrage of lefts and rights. Stan pressed a hand to his throbbing head, finally stopping the bleeding but not the pounding in his skull. He was feeling weak already. He was able to block the next few punches and even returned some of his own, but the blows weren't as heavy. The human was exhausted.

Finally, Damien got off Stan. His adrenaline was starting to run thin as well. It was time to finish this.

Damien agreed to no use of magic, but he said nothing about not using weapons. Just like wit his first victim, Damien fetched another knife.

But so did Gerald.

"NOW!"

Kenny lowered his head. He was promptly stabbed through the head by the concealed weapon in Gerald's pocket. As Damien moved in on Stan, his beeper went off.

"What the fuck!"

"The rules of death apply," Stan reminded him. "That means you have to follow them. You have a last-minute pickup, asshole!"

"But you said you wouldn't interfere!"

"Wrong! We said we wouldn't touch you, and we're not," Gerald explained with a triumphant grin.

Damien growled under his breath. He had been outsmarted. He made a mental note to never tell another soul about Death's requirements for last-minute pickups. He turned away from the ongoing battle to do his doty. He opened up a hole in the ground and quickly disposed of Kenny's lifeless body. The distraction allowed Stanley time to get back to his feet and move behind the boy. As the son of Satan turned around, one of his fanged teeth was sent flying by a hard right cross. Damien countered with a left hook. It hurt Stan, but not enough. Damien tried to hit a right and then a left jab, but Stan dodged them both with revived hope and quickness. He saw Damien's fist coming to hit him in the body next, so he moved to the left and hit Damien with another left hook. Stan followed it up with a jab. He continued hitting Damien with all the strength he had left, until his momentum was quickly ceased thanks to the still-hidden knife in the other boy's hand. Damien cut Stan open with an angry thrust of the weapon, making the boy howl in pain.

"Now we end this," Damien promised as he raised the weapon again.

But it wasn't over yet. To Damien's surprise, Kenny was back. It was as though the blonde had appeared out of thin air. His stab wound had also somehow disappeared.

"Where did he come from!"

"Do it again!" Ken encouraged, pointing at Butters.

"What! B-but Kenny, I don't wanna stab you. You're mah friend and-"

"JUST DO IT YOU FUCKING PUSSY!" Gerald demanded.

"AH!" Butters jumped. "OKAY OKAY!"

A scared Butters nervously snatched the knife from Gerald and instinctively plunged it through Kenny's heart. He looked away as he committed the very wrong deed.

Beep, beep, beep went the cursed pager of Death. Damien opened up another hole and summoned some demons to once again take Kenny away. A frustrated Damien finally hurled the beeper against the nearest wall, breaking it into pieces. The rules of death be damned! A victory here would get Damien what he wanted.

In more ways than one.

Noting that the knife was still in Damien's hand, Stan used the momentary distraction to find a weapon of his own. He dug the pen used to sign the contract back out of his pocket.

When Kenny was again out of sight, Damien refocused his attention on the fight. Now more than ever, he wanted it to end.

Stan could feel his anger reaching an all-time high. He remembered all the things that had happened to him. All the pain Damien caused for nothing more but a job. With all he had left, a furious Stan jammed the pen into Damien's eye. Not once or twice, but six times. He went deeper and deeper with each thrust of the knife until it successfully punctured Damien's brain. Stan saw the blood gushing out of the other boy, and guiltfully relished in the moment. He couldn't stop, but he did briefly hesitate. Stan rarely hurt or killed anything in his life. He couldn't even stand to hunt dangerous animals with his uncle. But Damien wasn't an animal, and he was also certainly far from a human being. He was a heartless creature who had taken the lives of other innocent people. People who were Stan's friends. Damien deserved to pay for that.

Stan continued stabbing the boy in a fit of blind rage. He was doing it! He was beating Damien! He was winning the fight and finally getting his revenge! Stan knew Damien was hurting, but what he didn't know was that he would soon be hurting too. Very badly.

"LOOK OUT!" Gerald and Butters shouted.

With his last ounce of life, Damien reached his hand around and plunged the blade of his knife into Stan's side, cutting deeply enough to hit his appendix.

It was the last thing Stan felt before he died.

The deed was done. Seemingly, Stan had won the fight. Damien's plans of becoming Death were ruined. Stan had won the fight. Strangely, despite this, a smirk appeared on Damien's face just before his own life faded away. That was because although he may not have gotten the coveted letter of recommendation, he had still accomplished his goal.

The duo woke up side by side in Hell, each still looking beaten and tired. The South Park group rushed over to their fallen friend immediately.

"Stan!" Kyle exclaimed. "Stan, are you okay!"

Stan slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to his new surroundings. "Kyle?"

"Did you win the fight?" the redhead questioned as he helped his best friend back up to his feet.

Stan paused and looked around, still getting his wits about him. "How'd you know about that?"

"Kenny was here. He told us what was happening," Kyle explained.

Stan blinked, taking a quick head count of his friends.

"Where -is- Kenny?"

Kyle shrugged. "He probably went back to earth again."

"So did you win or not?" Cartman asked impatiently.

A smile came over Stan's face as his brain processed the answer to the question.

"Yeah. Yeah I did. It's over."

"Guess again," Damien informed him as he pushed himself up with the aid of a nearby rock.

"Oh no, it's over asshole." Stan shook his head. "I killed you. I won!"

"Yes. And why did you kill me?"

"To stop you from becoming Death."

"That's why you fought me. Why did you -kill- me?" he repeated with the appropriate emphasis.

"Because you..." Stan paused, his face turning white. "...Because you killed my friends..." he reasoned.

"Congratulations," Damien said. "You completed the circle. You gave me my seventh sin. You committed the sin of wrath. Why do you think you're back in Hell?"

Stan's injured jaw dropped. He was right. Stan had sinned and died in the process. That meant that he was now dead. Dead and stuck in Hell for all eternity. Stan may have had the brilliant idea to use Kenny to his advantage, but Damien had his own master plan in mind. Whether it was the sin of wrath or a case of self-defense, Damien had all his bases covered. He had a reason to kill Stan no matter what happened. There was no way Stan could have truly won the fight, and he didn't.

"You son of a bitch! You tricked me!"

Damien's smirk grew. "Did you really think you could outsmart me? Did you really think you could beat me? I'm the son of the devil. And now, thanks to you, my tryout is over. I completed my mission and I'm still eligable for the job. It's only a matter of time until I become Death. You can't beat Death, mortal. I'll judge all sinners how I see fit and there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"Yes there is," a voice announced from the distance.

Satan appeared before the group once again. He pointed to Chef.

"I was thinking about what you said. My son does need discipline in his life. I might have gotten him the tryout for this job, but I can't let him destroy the balance of good and evil. You finished your task Damien, and Death has your application, but I'm afraid you won't get the job."

Now it was Damien's turn to look shocked.

"WHAT! What the hell are you talking about father?"

"I gave my -own- letter of recommendation to a -new- Death applicant!"

"Who?"

Fog suddenly rose up from the ground, making the dead humans cough. Slowly, a figure in a dark robe emerged from the distance. Death himself had finally arrived. Needless to say, he had the attention of everyone.

"Death, have you made your final decision?" Satan asked.

Never one for speaking, Death nodded his head under his dark hood and pointed his skeletal finger away from the group back toward the remaining thick fog. A smaller figure with human hands, wearing a robe the exact type and color as the one worn by the Grim Reaper, came out next and stood beside the taller creature. The apprentice of the afterlife pulled back his hood...

...to reveal another hood. Specifically, the hood of an orange parka.

"KENNY!" the South Park group exclaimed in surprise. Except for Tall Goth, who didn't seem phased by the whole thing.

Satan smiled. "It was a last minute application, but he's certainly an expert on the rules of death."

"...No..." Damien weakly protested. "NO!"

Satan nodded his head. "It's over Damien. I'm sorry."

The rage slowly built up inside the young demonic teen. He worked his ass off to get that job. There was no way that Kenny boy deserved it more. With a scream of rage, Damien hurled a fireball in the direction of his father's face.

"HEY!"

Satan dodged the fire and glared at his boy. Clearly this kid was out of control.

"THAT DOES IT!" Satan shouted. "Damien, you're going to learn to respect your elders RIGHT NOW!"

With a simple clap of the devil's hands, Damien found himself in the same position as one of his victims. He was suddenly bound and gagged by some ropes that had appeared out of nowhere. Apparently Satan was an old-school parent who believed in "tough love" physical discipline. But, before he could make a move to teach his child a lesson, Stan still had a question to pose.

"Wait. So, Kenny's Death now?"

"Looks that way," Kenny smiled.

Stan blinked. "But...But what does that mean? What happens to me? What happens to my friends?"

Since Death was never one for talking, Satan answered on his behalf.

"Well, that's up to the new Death. I told you all before: Only Death can decide where people go and when."

The group all perked up again. Except for Tall Goth.

"We wanna go back!" Kyle declared for everyone.

"I think I can arrange that," Kenny winked at his friends.

"Not so fast," Cartman insisted.

"What!" Stan exclaimed.

"What're you talking about!" Kyle demanded to know as well.

Cartman walked over to the now helpless Damien. The group's eyes followed him. The fat boy stomped his overweight foot onto the face of the demon boy.

"We can't go yet you gahs."

"Why not?" Stan asked.

Cartman produced the free sin coupon from his pocket.

"Because we haven't gotten even," he explained with a devilish smirk of his own.

"Oh yeah," Chef agreed with a small laugh.

Kyle grinned at Satan. "I think we'll be using these now."

Satan shrugged and accepted the coupons back from the boys. It was one less beating for him to administer. The group of victims formed a straight line, preparing to kick Damien's ass one by one.

About an hour later, Damien was mangled beyond recognition. His limbs were broken, if not entirely missing. His body was punctured and bloody. He could barely groan out in pain, because he had gone hoarse from screaming in worse pain only minutes before. With tears in his eyes he looked to Kenny, the new official face of Death, with a simple request.

"Kill me...Please kill me..."

"Nope" he casually answered.

"WHAT!"

"Nah, I don't feel like it."

"I hope you've learned your lesson about tampering with death, Damien," Satan said. "Death isn't a bad thing. It's a necessary thing. People need to have their pain ended. They need closure to a long, happy life. Most importantly, they need to go where they belong once that life is over."

"Unless you're me," Kenny joked.

"Come on, let's go." Stan decided.

The group headed for a hole that Kenny opened up for them. It would presumable lead them all back to earth. It was finally over. Soon, everything would be as it was again. Except that now, Kenny would have a job. Good for him.

They left Hell together with their earth lives all restored. Stan paused at the exit to the portal and turned back to face the father of the boy he had just battled one more time.

"Hey Satan?" Stan said. "...Thanks."

Satan nodded. "You're welcome."

"I'm sorry about your son."

Satan shook his head. "You've done a good thing Stan. In fact, I have a strong feeling I'll never see you again."

"I hope not," he admitted with a bit of a smile. It was the first time he'd smiled in weeks. "Later dude."

With that, Stan walked into the hole, holding his head high in victory.

"I'm gonna go hang with them for a little bit," Kenny announced. He headed for the portal as well.

"This isn't fair!" Damien insisted. "You can't do this to me!"

Kenny responded by flicking a free sin coupon Damien's way.

AFTERMATH

Gerald and Kyle were tearfully reunited back at the school. There was a huge party a few weeks later to celebrate the boy's return. Naturally, Cartman crashed the event.

For fighting the son of the devil, Butters got grounded.

The school was opened up again following spring break. On their first day back, Token wrote Kenny a blank check to get his fmaily out of the ghetto. He had apparently learned a lesson about being a good person in life.

Tall Goth was reuinted with the other goth kids. They didn't seem to care.

Chef decided to take advantage of his second chance at life. He signed up with a group called the Super Adventure Club and left South Park shortly afterward to explore the world. He was probably fine after that.

Stan was, of course, the happiest boy on earth. He had everything and everyone back again. His life was truly complete, now more than ever. Impressed with his own ability to fist fight well, he signed up for amateur boxing. He remains undefeated to this day.

Death retired to a condo in Florida.

For every minute of every day, Damien continued living in pain for all eternity. Exactly the way it should be.

THE END 


End file.
